What they experienced
by orangefish2
Summary: *SPOILERS ahead for those of you who haven't watched the midseason finale yet. * This story is focusing on FitzSimmons and them trying to repair their damaged friendship after the midseason finale.
1. Chapter 1

**What they experienced**

* * *

Why should I fear death?

If I am, death is not.

If death is, I am not.

Why should I fear that which can only exist,

When I do not? – Epicurus

* * *

He had jumped. Trip hadn't even bothered to put his suit back on, when he had let himself down again. And now what?

What were they supposed to do? They had only managed to get out in time because they had split up… So how could _one_ person manage to prevent the worst?

Fitz looked at Jemma, whose gaze was still fixed into the black tunnel. She was sitting at the edge, glaring into it with a still shocked, but concentrated expression. She was thinking hard, trying to find a way to help their friend … She always had found a way in the past, but this time was different. This time, there was nothing she could do. Except go down there.

And damn it, if she even attempted to move an inch closer to the hole, he'd push her back to the far end of the room, away from the tunnel.

He sat down beside her, watching her closely, when her eyes met his.

"Don't even think about it" she said. "I'm not letting you go down there."

And although she couldn't read his thoughts anymore, a sign that they still had to work on their friendship after the few "normal" interactions they had shared in the past few hours, he couldn't help but to feel a tinge of …relief? Or was it happiness…? After all that had happened, especially her leaving, it felt nice to know that she still cared about him… even though she'd never care for him the way he did for her.

"I'm not" he answered. "A...And to be honest, you are a little too close to the tunnel for my taste" he murmured and gently pushed her back.

She was showing some kind of emotion in her eyes, but he was unable to make it out. She forced a weak smile onto her lips as he sat down beside her, leaning against the wall. Their shoulders were touching, just like back then, when their relationship hadn't been that…damaged.

"Do you think he'll make it?" she whispered, eyes fixed on the black hole in the ground.

"We'll know in a few minutes, I guess." He answered and checked the time, trying his best to avoid thinking about the consequences if Trip wouldn't.

Skye and Coulson were down there too, just like…Mack. He would have been blown apart without anybody jumping to the rescue.

And the worst was that he had helped setting up the bombs. He even did one all by himself. Not to mention that he had almost shot him.

A big lump formed itself down in his throat, making it hard to breathe. He had abandoned his best friend when he'd needed him most. After all the things Mack had done for him, the best he'd been able to do was twice-done attempted murder. _Really well done, Fitz_, he thought.

Jemma breathed in an awful lot of air, trying to calm down her senses. He did the same, but without any luck. His heart was still pounding heavily against his chest and the dust from the ground had found its way to his mouth, providing him with a terrible taste and a dry feeling on his tongue.

Why did all hell decide to break loose, when they decided to show up? Couldn't their plan work for just one freakin' time without any inconveniences?

That was what he hated about field work… the unknown variables that were lingering in the walls around them, sneaking up on them to turn the tables once again. They had always found a way back, but now it felt like they had emptied their bottle of luck.

Down in the medpod he had felt a similar kind of desperation, though back then he knew that it would end soon. If things would go wrong now, he would have to face the outcome of things.

Two of his good friends dead, just like his best friend, who had a slight chance of surviving because of some weird alien crap. Shield would lack a director once again, which would only worsen the situation of the already crippled organization.

Jemma sucked in another deep breath beside him, interrupting his thoughts and bringing him back to reality.

"Any minute now" he mumbled after checking his watch while his hands shook uncontrollably. She took hold of one, squeezing it with her eyes closed while she hid her head in the crook of his neck.

He didn't have time to think of how nice it felt to have her that close again, because his heart felt like it was about to jump out of his chest from the fierce beating inside of him.

When the watch hand was about to reach the moment they had set the bombs to explode, he too shut his eyelids and clutched Jemma's hand tightly.

And then…

Nothing.

He counted, but nothing happened. And of course, he had added a few seconds just to make sure… so that meant … that meant Trip had made it in time.

"He ...He did it" Fitz said in disbelief and Jemma looked up at him. A smile planted itself across her lips and then they were getting up and hugging each other again, being glad that everything had worked out after all.

His heartbeat decreased his strength to an almost normal level, when Jemma slowly disengaged from their embrace, watching his face up-close. They weren't hugging anymore, but she had only moved away a few inches.

And again, she wore the same unreadable expression while gazing into his eyes.

He was about to ask her what was going on when she interrupted him, saying:" You know, for a brief moment I thought you wanted to… go after him."

He placed his forehead against hers, suddenly feeling brave enough to be that near to her, answering:" You know, that's funny, 'cause I thought the exact same thing."

She grinned, pulling him even closer, murmuring:" Wouldn't have let you anyway. Wasn't sitting that close to the edge for no reason…"

This time he was the one whose face lit up. Being near her, that near, felt better than anything he had experienced the past few months. It was then that he noticed just how much he had missed her presence. His last mission was to avoid her at all cost and now that they somehow had managed to work together almost like way back in the days, he had more hope than ever to at least get her back as a friend. There had been moments where they had been on the same wavelength again, where she had no trouble finding the right words to end his sentences.

Of course, they still had a bit of talking to do, but by the looks of it they were well on the way to reintroduce some of their old habits.

It was really incredible how little time could turn everything around.

Just a few hours ago working beside her had seemed to be impossible and now she was here, in his arms, soft and warm and smiling. Before, they hadn't even been able to be alone in the same room without it getting awkward.

* * *

But as every so often in their lives, fate seemed to have decided to not let them have their peace. A strange rumble echoed through the temple, that caused a vibrating feeling in the both of them.

They didn't even have enough time to ask themselves what had happened, when the ground beneath them started to shake uncontrollably.

There were boulders crashing down beside them, missing them by only a few centimeters. The strength of the quake was immense and they both lost their balance. He hit the hard, dirty floor with Jemma landing right on top of him.

She tightly gripped his arm, blinking from all the dust around them. His hands found the way all around her, so that he was holding her tightly. His eyes wandered around the room, desperately trying to find a way out or somewhere to seek shelter in.

"We're okay", he said, not sure if she'd actually hear him. Even more soil made its way into his mouth, but right now he couldn't care less.

There wasn't any way they'd be able to get up, much less walk in this mess, with parts of the ceiling falling down. Their position seemed to be the safest possibility anyway, up until now only minor lumps had landed on their heads.

He didn't know what had happened down there, but that was definitely not the bombs. The shaking took too long, was way too strong up here.

Whatever this was, it wasn't good. Not at all.

Fate was playing a game with them, testing them to see who'd win and who'd lose. The failed attempt of words of cheer to Jemma before, were losing meaning every second, as the ground rumbled beneath them.

And then… silence.

**I don't really know if I'll add another chapter, for now I am just going to leave it like that. It's been a bit since I have continuously written in English, so please have mercy with me for my grammar, as English is not my mother tongue.**

**Also, I'm open to better ideas for a title to this story, I honestly don't like the one I gave it. (That's the best that I could come up with)^^**

**I'd love to hear your feedback, so if you can, please leave a review! **


	2. Chapter 2

**After a few of you told me you liked my first chapter, I decided to prolong this one-shot and make it into a longer story. **

** Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy it! **

**I don't own Agents of Shield.**

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Nobody answered. They screamed their lungs out to reach anyone, but there was no voice coming back out of the tunnel in the ground.

So Fitz grabbed their equipment, at least the things that were still functional and repairable, and started packing up.

"What are you doing? We have to help them!" Jemma said and whipped away the bag he was stuffing their devices into.

"And how…how would you like to do that? Our equipment is broken, the rope fell down during the quake, absolutely no technology is working down there that we could reach them with and it's dusty as hell. I just want to get out of here", he snapped.

The astonishing fact that he had only stuttered once during this long sentence went unnoticed as she huffed out in annoyance and pressed the bag a little too hard against his chest."I'm not leaving our friends down there. There has to be-"

"There is no other way, Jemma! Don't you get it? They're most likely dead! The quake came from where they were and if it was that strong up here, it must have been even stronger underground. They're gone." His voice had gotten louder than he intended to and he could clearly see the effects his harsh tone and words caused.

She tried her best to hold back the tears that were already lingering in her eyes, while she gave him a dirty look. She was trying to cover up the pain that both of them were feeling right now, though she failed miserably.

To not upset her any further, he tried it again with a calmer tone. "Look, Jemma, I'm sorry-"

"What if I had been down there?" she suddenly whispered and looked up at him curiously.

She caught him off-guard with that. He had expected her to argue, to scream back at him so that she could let out all of her built up energy and pain, but not a question like that. Not after he made it clear to her that she still held a special place in his heart when he told her he was unable to work with her.

"That…that doesn't matter. You're here. And even if you weren't, I wouldn't be able to do anything from here. We have to get back; maybe they made it in time and came out of May's side." He answered and was glad that his voice didn't crack. He had to keep it together now or they'd never leave this dirty hell.

A tear made its way down her cheek, but she quickly wiped it away, nodding. She silently helped him gather the rest of the equipment and climbed over the rocks in front of them.

Neither of them said a word when they reached the exit, sunlight streaking their faces and making it hard to see.

Some people around the square gave them weird looks, as both of their clothes and hair were dusty and dirty. But most of them were busy talking with each other, probably about the earthquake that they seemed to have noticed too.

There was no sign of Hydra and for one second Fitz wondered if they had finally decided to not wear their more than suspiciously looking dark suits.

Just to be sure, they walked cautiously, keeping their surroundings in view. There didn't seem anything off though, as everybody was recovering from the quake.

A few flower pots hadn't survived, because the plants had fallen over, breaking the vessel. A hat vendor was screaming after two kids who had stolen one of his goods, while he picked up the few that had fallen to the ground. A mother tried to calm her crying baby, whispering soothing words while holding it tightly in her arms.

Life around them seemed to normalize again, as everybody made sure that nobody was hurt and that everything that had fallen to the floor was picked up again.

Fitz noticed that Jemma had slowed down, her anger towards him fading minute after minute. At least it seemed like that because she had stopped giving him dirty looks or "accidently" bumping a little too hard against his side when she sidestepped some broken obstacles in their way. But she still didn't say a word to him.

When they finally made it back to the BUS, it was empty. Nobody was there, and they had been unable to contact May, Bobby or Hunter. Jemma had lost her ear-piece during the earth quake, while his had been damaged when he had fallen on the ground. His mobile phone had a huge crack on the screen and was nothing but black and when Jemma tried to call with hers, nobody answered.

Now they were here, alone and waiting for at least someone to come back. Fitz let the bag sink to the floor, walking up the stairs while Jemma stared after him. Two seconds later he came back with two bottles of water in his hands while Jemma was frantically searching the boxes in the Garage.

He silently held the beverage towards her and she took it without a word. She was more exhausted than pissed it seemed. Well that and shocked, tired, sad, hurt… When you've just lost four good friends and colleagues, experienced an earthquake and wandered around an alien city it was a bit hard to describe the mental and physical state you found yourself in.

"Did you reach anybody?" he asked, already knowing the answer. He mentally smacked himself as he saw her shoulders sink, but what was he supposed to do or say in such a situation?

He didn't want to stay quiet; he needed to hear her voice in moments like that. It calmed him down and made him think straight. It was easier ignoring the anger and the pain deep down inside him when she was there.

But Jemma didn't bring out a single tone. She just ever so slightly shook her head and took another sip of the cold water.

For Fitz, the silence became almost unbearable. After beginning to talk to each other just that same day again, he never wanted to go back to not saying anything at all. He needed her. But right now she looked anything but capable of calming him down.

She sat still on the ground, tightly gripping the bottle in her hand and stared on the floor. There were tears forming in her eyes and he wanted nothing more than to hold her again and tell her that everything would be alright.

But he couldn't. Something stopped him. He couldn't bring himself to sink to the floor beside her, to just lend her a shoulder to cry on.

He couldn't sit down. There was a feeling in his legs that he couldn't really describe. They were restless and twitching and it felt like he would have to run miles before he could even think about standing still. He was pacing around the garage, clicking with the plastic bottle in his hand. His breath was uneven and his heart was thumping heavily inside his chest. And no matter how much water he drank, the disgusting taste on his tongue didn't quite resolve.

He felt it, he was about to lose it. Not long and he'd be throwing around things again. The only thing that had kept him from doing so, was Jemma. He tried his best not to scare her any further, but he was unsure of how long he could withstand the feeling that was forming inside of him.

But then all of a sudden they weren't alone anymore.

Bobby and Hunter were standing in front of them. And then Skye entered, with Coulson and May and … Mack?

He smiled, feeling relief float his body. They were all safe.

But strangely enough nobody seemed happy. None of them smiled back, let alone opened their mouth to say even a word.

Didn't they know how much luck they all had? They were alive. They had managed to get everybody out safely from an alien built city while the earth was quaking; Mack had survived the fall into the black hole without even a scratch and Trip had…

Only then, he noticed.

He wanted to ask them, but Jemma was faster. She didn't have to look for the words before speaking.

"Where's… Trip?" she whispered, her voice cracking at the name of their teammate.

He looked at Skye, waiting for an answer. Because ...maybe this was just a big misunderstanding. They almost died, were tired and shocked and a lot of other things too.

Trip could just be checking on something outside, some scratch on the BUS….

Maybe he lost something important and had jogged back to get it…or perhaps he just wanted to celebrate their immense luck and was out to buy some snacks and beer. That were all possible explanations for his absence, weren't they?

But when Skye looked to the ground he didn't have to wait for her to shake her head.

He already knew by then.

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**Thank you for reading and just like last time, I'd really appreciate feedback! So if you can, please leave a review! :) **

**The next chapter is already in process and I'll probably post it this week on Thursday or Friday.**

**Happy New year to everybody!**

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**To brenna: **(whom I couldn't respond by pm and who asked me where I came from) I'm from Austria, Europe and therefore my mother tongue is German.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hope you all had a good start in the new year. Here's chapter three, as promised. (While uploading, fanfiction decided to eat some of my words. I re-read the chapter, but since I am sitting in front of my computer for two hours now, my eyes might have missed something, sorry for that) **

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_"Is there a good way to die? A perfect place to be when you take the last breath?_

_Maybe._

_But death is only a moment. A moment that'll pass. Something much more important than death is the place you'll find yourself in afterwards._

_If heaven or hell, if earth or another universe. If as another newborn human being or a fly emerging from an egg. If as a lion wandering the woods or as a dog running for a stick. It doesn't matter how you end up, as long as you find your peace._

_I always pictured a garden. It was a real place, just thirty meters away from my window. Nothing ostentatious, but perfect all the way. The grass was green and the bushes were even greener. I could never see all of it, as my sight from the window was limited. But I knew, every time I looked outside, watching the sunlight lighten up the place, that this was where I wanted to be when life was over. It looked peaceful by all accounts. I felt complete and happy whenever my eyes met the golden garden, as I decided to name it._

_There was a tiny shed, probably to store garden tools and some chairs to sit on. I never knew what was hidden in the other half of it, but I was sure to find out some day. When my time came._

_Behind the other side of the garden was a parking lot where three or four cars were parked every day. It wasn't as beautiful to look at, but it was good to know they were there. If I ever wanted to go elsewhere, if I didn't like it there anymore, I could just leave and head somewhere else. Or come back again._

_Though I never intended to use one of those cars not to mention that if, after death, I'd even be able to do so. I just always needed to know that there was a way out._

_The rose bushes were a much more beautiful sight than the grey cars and my first winter there, they were even blooming. The weather had been far too warm for December. And even on the days where it was foggy and cold, rainy and windy, the garden always seemed to be shining in a golden light. The first snow was marvelous and covered the green ground with a white and innocent blanket. Light always found a way through though, and maybe it was imagination, but either way, it gave me hope and suffused me with happiness._

_Just to know that it was there was reassuring. And although I knew that I still had to bear a lot of pain and hurt and badness in my life, I had a reason to fight on. It was just outside my window, and if I ever doubted it, I just had to look through it, to see its golden light gleaming back at me, telling me that it was still there…"_

The pastor stopped for a minute, looking around the people who had gathered around the tombstone.

Fitz only half-listened to the man talking about death. He had been near to dying on more than one occasion, so he had no good reason to listen to a man sugarcoating the concept of leaving behind the world of the living. For him, death was like turning off the light or falling into a deep, dreamless sleep. There was nothing special about it. At some point, it just stopped.

_"And if we all have a place like that, I'm sure Antoine has already arrived at his special spot. Maybe he's watching us all from up there for one last time or perhaps he is so overwhelmed from the beauty of his golden garden, that he doesn't hear us at all. And while we, the ones who are grieving a lost son, grandson, friend and colleague, are still alive on this earth, he and everything he ever accomplished in life will never be forgotten. His young death is a tragedy, but his life will never be useless. As long as we remember, as long as we know that he has found his peace, it will never be useless. He just got to his place faster than we did. And that really isn't something we have to be sad about._

_Yes, we lost him. But he deserves to be happy somewhere else too. "_

His eyes wandered to Jemma, who at least seemed to pretend to be lending her ears to the pastor. He missed the smile on her face that always appeared when she listened to a good story. He missed standing next to her, and he wished he could make the pain she clearly felt disappear…the pain they all felt.

It had been only a week since they lost Trip and only a week since he and Jemma had somewhat started to interact with each other again. For one little moment he had hoped that things would normalize, but then, as always, fate had had a different view on what should happen.

They did talk, though they only exchanged a few words. But she didn't chat with the others either, so he hoped that she was only grieving and needed time.

He did so too. He still needed time, to be honest. A week wasn't enough to make him realize that Trip wasn't anymore. That he wouldn't just walk around the corner, smiling brightly like he always used to.

He owed his life to him, and the fact that he hadn't been able to even attempt to hold him back made him feel a mixture of guilt, uselessness and anger. Though… if he had been able to prevent him from defusing the bombs, everybody else wouldn't have come back. And Fitz didn't really know how he should feel about that…

The only thing he did know was that Trip wouldn't want anyone of them to feel guilty or sorry for him. He had always been a man dedicated to the case and his work and one who knew the risks of being a field agent. He was aware that his life was in danger when he had jumped down, but he had done it nonetheless. He was willing to die, if he didn't make it in time.

But that didn't help much… Because he _did_ manage to save their team and he didn't die under the circumstances that he thought he would. Trip didn't lose his life in an explosion; he died because he hadn't been "worthy".

And how in the world is a man who is willing to _die_ for his friends not worthy? What kind of world was that? Who decided that? Who said that one could live and gain a new ability while the other one was doomed to crumble into dust?

This was anything but fair. However, Fitz couldn't do anything against that. Not really.

When his eyes wandered from Jemma to the empty coffin, where only a few personal things of Trip had been put into, he started picturing his own funeral.

He had gotten close to having one a few times by now, especially after the med-pod incident. He wondered where he would have been buried, but figured that because of his absence now, his mother would have at least wanted him close in death.

And if he really had died then, his physical shell would probably be rotting away in a grave in Scotland, a few flowers and a candle lying in front of the tombstone from the last visit of his mother.

Thinking about his life, it felt like he had missed out on something. Yes, he had lived an adventure and yes, he got to see a lot of strange and exquisite things. He had enjoyed it, most of the time at least. But was that everything life could offer him?

He sighed and turned his gaze away from the coffin in the grave, drifting to the one person that had made being alive both enjoyable and miserable. She too had been glaring at the grave, and for a moment, he wondered if she had had similar thoughts. Her eyes met his and then, she forced out the slightest hint of a reassuring smile.

He returned the gesture, his smile a little broader than hers, while looking into her eyes. She stared back for a moment and then turned away again, focusing on the leaves being swirled up in the wind.

It was strange how much happiness she could cause by only forcing a smile onto him. But it had been her first attempt in a week and it had been addressed to him. And no matter how much he tried to ignore the whirlwind of feelings her twitch of the lip had created, he couldn't stop it. He probably never would.

Maybe there wasn't a "special place" for everyone. Maybe some people didn't mind the place they found themselves in, as long as a special person was with them. And perhaps Jemma was that for him. His golden garden, or …well, golden person.

Because whenever he looked at her, no matter how broken she was or how bad he felt, just knowing that she was there, helped. At least a bit.

"_When the next person dies, they don't need to arrange a pastor. Seems like his speech is already rubbing off on me… _"Fitz thought and wrinkled his nose.

* * *

"Turbo", Mack said while entering the lab. "We're all eating dinner together, you coming?" he asked and Fitz was already looking for an excuse to decline the offer. Yes, he was a bit peckish, but he really didn't want to be in company right now.

He needed to think things through about-

"You're not getting out of that one. Everybody's there, you're coming too." He said and walked up beside him. "Don't make me drag you out there"

Ever since Mack had miraculously survived, Fitz had somewhat tried to keep his distance from his former best friend. Mack had no memory of the time he had been possessed and controlled by the city and Fitz hadn't had the courage to tell him about how he almost shot him. Or that he wanted to bury him in the city by letting a few bombs go off. Mack would be better off without him, but it seemed he didn't really get the hang of it.

"I'm good here, thanks. Not really…hungry" he murmured and realized his fatal mistake.

"You and not hungry? Well _that's_ new." Mack said and sat down beside him, sighing loudly. "Now I know you're not the kind of person who likes to talk about their problems, but… have you at least tried it for once?"

"I..have, yes. But there's nothing wrong, I'm just trying to concentrate and would appreciate a little privacy." Fitz answered and avoided eye contact, scribbling some notes on a white sheet of paper.

"So then there's no actual reason why you've been avoiding me all week?" he answered nonchalantly.

_Dammit_.

Couldn't he have asked that an hour later? He was just trying to put his plans into the right words so that it wouldn't come out the wrong way. And he had only just started with the first sentence.

"I…I…I won't come with you working in…on.. working on the BUS" he answered, cursing himself for his stammering. "I'm… done with missions for a while. I'll only go if they really need me."

Mack nodded, waiting for him to continue.

"After Trip… I mean if I was him…I realized I'm not quite finished with life yet. And the last missions… we were lucky to come back. And I don't want to be the next one to use up my luck."

"You're staying in the lab." he stated matter-of-factly.

"Yes" Fitz breathed out. "I'm sorry." He added and met his friend's gaze. Astoundingly, he didn't seem mad. In fact, he offered him a small smile and gave him a small pat on the shoulder.

"Don't be. It's your every right to do so. And to be honest, after what happened, I'm not so sure I'm ready for that kind of field work yet. I still have to think about that too" Mack answered, leaning back in the chair. "Will you work with _her_?" he added curiously, emphasizing the "her".

"For her. I'll work for her." he said, feeling his cheeks burn up. For some reason he was looking forward to tell her that he wouldn't leave. Maybe because he hoped to get another smile or even a full sentence. To be honest, even a word would do the thing. He just missed hearing her voice...

Mack nodded and suddenly got up. "So know that that's settled, we'll go eat dinner." He said and grabbed hold of his friend's seat, pulling him backwards.

"Mack-wait" he said, before the man could drag him out of the room. "There's… something else."Fitz got up, facing his friend. " I…I almost shot you…when you were..ehm.."

"affected by the city? Yeah, well, as of what I've heard, I wasn't really acting like myself. Bobby sent me flying down I don't know how many feet and I'm here without a scratch.. If I survived that, a gun wouldn't really have harmed me, I think."

"No I… you were… " he breathed out, trying to find the right words. "I helped install the bombs, the ones that…"

"Trip came back to dismantle." Mack finished for him, though Fitz had wanted to say something else.

"No…ehm...Yes. The ones that were meant to bury the temple. And you."

Mack gave him the once-over. "They didn't explode. I'm alive. There's no need to tell me those things. I don't care, because it didn't happen. So stop beating yourself up about it."

He opened his mouth to say something else, but he didn't know what he should add. Mack didn't seem to understand that he had abandoned him, or at least he didn't want to.

"Look, Fitz, sometimes we do things we're not proud of. I made a lot of mistakes in my life too, and it's good to feel bad about them. For a while. It makes us realize that we did something stupid so that we won't repeat it, but that doesn't mean that we should constantly feel guilty. Life goes on. Get over it."

_Yeah, cause that's so easy… _

He sighed and put the chair back to its place. When he and Mack left the room, his friend gave him another pat on the shoulder. "It'll get better.", he reassured him. "You just have to stop being such a drama queen."

"I'm not a drama queen! I'm just-"

"Going to get your ass kicked in Halo after dinner." Mack cut in, trying to bring some lightness into their conversation. "I overheard the Koenig brothers are busy with some important protocol stuff, so we have the Xbox all to ourselves for tonight."

Fitz sighed, knowing that he was many hours away from getting some sleep. Though a part of him was actually looking forward to some normality after the past two weeks.

Trip might be gone, but his life wasn't over yet. And there were a few things he wanted to do before he left this world forever. But that could wait till the next day. For now, all he needed was a meal and a miracle so that he could beat Mack in Halo.

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**Thank you for reading and the reviews! **

**I'll do my best to update till Tuesday. I have a vague idea of the next chapter, but still need to write it. There will be more interaction between FitzSimmons than just a stupid smile, I promise^^ **


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks for all the lovely reviews and of course, for reading! Here's part 4, I hope you enjoy. That chapter was a pain in the ass and I had to rewrite it a few times. Sorry for any mistakes and for being late, but I hope you like it anyway!**

**I don't own agents of shield.**

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Coulson took it better than expected. After nervously sweating for days before the director was back from who knows what, all that he had to say to Fitz's and Mack's decision to stay in the lab was "Okay." He had scribbled down something illegible on a post-it note - that had looked a lot like Captain America's shield – and then just shoved them out the door, shouting a "Have a nice day" in their direction. They didn't even have time to tell him that, in case of an emergency, they would of course offer their service in the field. But that obviously had to wait…

"Well that was…" Mack started.

"Odd, yeah." Fitz finished as they both started walking away.

"Wonder what he's up to…"

Fitz shook his head. "God, no. That's the last thing I wanna know right now. Not before using up my hard-earned days off." he answered and increased his walking speed. "Took me long enough to persuade him."

Mack chuckled. "Yeah, I built him a mini-Lola and didn't get to go on vacation. You just make it fly and-"

"Hey, it wasn't that easy to find a solution to-"

"fit everything into the car, I know. Though it sure is unfair. I built the whole car, while you just improved it. He wouldn't have this gorgeous beauty in his office if it wasn't for me…"

"Gorgeous _flying_ beauty" Fitz added with a smirk.

* * *

When they entered the lab, he saw Jemma leaning over the table while fumbling with some device in her hands. "What are you doing here so early?" he asked surprised that she was already back, his heart speeding up a bit at the thought of finally telling her that he'd stay. He really hoped she'd be happy… Because when he had told her about his plans to work on the bus, she certainly hadn't been.

And the past few days before she had left, hadn't been perfect either. They had bumped more than just once into each other during work, causing them to argue over whose fault it had been that her samples and Mini-Lola had ended up on the floor.

After the funeral, it took her a bit of time before she started to 'normally' interact with others again. Everybody was grieving, some more and longer than others. But at some point, they all realized that although Trip's life had ended, theirs was far from over. And of course they kept their lost friend in mind, but while they continued living, the thoughts of him decreased as they moved on. And that's when they had allowed themselves to have fun again, fooled around, drank beers and played cards till late at night.

Just like all of them, Jemma had had a day where she had finally accepted Trip's death. Fitz had been busy eating breakfast, stuffing cereals into his mouth when she had sat down opposite of him, with tea and a bagel on her tablet. She had offered him a small smile, while putting sugar and milk into her cup. They didn't talk about much, he had still been half-asleep, but the silence they had shared hadn't been uncomfortable for once.

And he had had that tiny shimmer of hope that ,maybe, they'd be able to overcome all their difficulties. But it seemed that he'd been wrong. After that peaceful breakfast, Jemma had somewhat become very moody towards him and whenever he had tried to talk with her, she'd gotten angry or had ignored him altogether.

They had only shared a few friendly moments and only if somebody else had been in the same room with them… And when Coulson had agreed that he and Mack could stay in the lab, the only thing he thought that could make her feel a bit better, was the news that he wouldn't leave. Because somehow, he thought his leaving was linked to her mood. Or he hoped so… it would at least mean she'd stop acting so…off and unlike her.

However, he did his best to leastwise try to not to make the situation any worse and was as polite as he could be.

* * *

Jemma was obviously startled by his sudden approach, her shoulders twitching while she turned around the device in her hands. When she didn't answer, he walked up beside her to see what she was up to, leaving enough space between the two of them. He may long to touch her, but he knew that it didn't do him any good.

She was inspecting one of the D.W.A.R.F.S that he had spotted in the alien city when they had gone down to set up the bombs.

"I'm trying to find out what's wrong with Sleepy here. You weren't there and I thought I just might as well take a look at him." No snapping or shouting, and definitely no ignoring him. Maybe it was Mack's presence or she had had good day so far.

"Yeah..you can forget that" he answered and added: "He's totally broken."

Jemma turned around quickly, her 'concentration wrinkle' on her forehead disappearing. "You can't repair it?"

He shook his head while scratching his neck. "It'd be faster to just rebuild it from scratch. I don't know what parts are broken and I'd have to disassemble him anyway."

"Did you even take a look at him?" she asked, suddenly sounding offended.

"Yes, of course." He answered confused, hoping that her mood would improve rather sooner than later again.

"That's really strange ,you know,… because it accidentally was in my bag. I had it with me the whole time." she told him and placed Sleepy on the table. "You know you can just tell me that you're not interested to rebuild the D.W.A.R.F.S with me. I'll just give the blueprints to some other engineer. We _do_ need them."

"I so don't wanna be part of this" Mack mumbled and walked away, shooting him an apologetic look. Fitz made a grimace when Jemma had turned her attention to Sleepy again, making Mack chuckle at the far end of the room. If he wouldn't know any better, he'd think she was on her period. But as old evidence suggested, it wasn't that what was upsetting her. Back when they had interacted on a daily basis, she had always been able to maintain her composure and he never knew when... those days took place.

"I…did give it a look. When I packed him in. After the quake." he answered. It actually was the truth, although it had been a more than just quick once-over. Though he had noticed that a few tiny parts had been crashed. It was very likely that Sleepy had stopped working mid-air, not surviving the fall.

"Whatever", she scoffed and turned her back on him.

"Jemma." He sighed and continued with a pleading voice. "Would you please just listen to-"

"You don't have to try to be nice to me" she interjected and started walking away from him. He kept up with her pace, trying not to run into some standing about chairs. "I am a big girl, you know. If you don't want to be friends or work with me anymore, that's fine. Just tell me already then. But don't bother keeping up the charade and making small talk. That's just unnecessary and mean."

"I'm..I never said I don't want to be friends with you."

"You didn't have to. I got the message loud and clear." She was speeding up and Fitz wasn't sure where she intended to go. The exit to the lab was at the other end of the room.

"I wouldn't be running after you, would I?" he said and then she stopped, rummaging through some shelves. She darted him a deadly glance, while pushing away some files. "What are you doing?" he asked, wondering if she just did that to make him leave.

"Finding a place for Sleepy." She nagged and after she placed the device in the shelf, she eyed him. "And you are…?"

"Trying to talk to you!" he shouted, immediately regretting the volume of his voice. "Jemma, come on! I don't want to end up fighting with you every time we're in the same room. We've managed to work together before…" _Trip's death_, he mentally added. "why doesn't it work now?"

She sighed and shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know", she he mumbled and leaned forward so that her hair was covering her face. "Why should we even try, it's not as if you'll be here, working with…no, excuse me, working _for_ me. You'll be gone most of the time anyway." While the first half of her answer had been quiet and had sounded honest, the other half had been scolded again, covering up her real feelings. He had no idea when she had started doing that. Back at the Academy she had had no problems addressing problems… and opening up to him.

"I'm not going." He blurted out and for the first time today she looked him into his eyes. "I already told Coulson. I'll stay in the lab."

Her lip twitched, other than that she was completely frozen.

"Oh…" was all that came out of her mouth once she started to move again. Her expression changed from snarky to sorry in an instant.

"So…if you still want to… If you don't wanna be friends, it's…fine. I just don't want to fight every time we are in the same room." He stammered, unsure of how she'd react and hoping that her answer wouldn't be covered up by a mean comment again.

"I..we can be friends, if you want. I'd…like that." She admitted and he bit back a breath of relief.

"Good, that's…good."

"We…we should probably… talk…" she started, not quite sure on how to finish the sentence. "Without…,you know, shouting at each other."

"Yeah, that sounds-… we should try that." - _Good lord_, that was even more awkward than the silence had been. It seemed that apart from shouting, they had no idea of what to say to each other.

"We could...you know, after dinner."

"Sorry, What?" he asked, not sure what she had suggested. His cheeks were obviously flushed and he had to turn his head away, watching Mack flipping through a stack of papers.

"Talk" she said and followed his gaze." I'd rather do it somewhere more privately, if that's okay. I don't need the other's to hear more of our…discussions."

"Ehm, yeah, that… sounds like a plan." -Was this ever going to get any better?

* * *

After their more than just awkward conversation, she had politely suggested to work on the D.W.A.R.F.S together. He'd agreed to do so, and up until dinner, they had been busy arguing over what would be an improvement regarding the little robots and what not.

And though they had been much more careful with their words and movements to not bump into each other again, the strange feeling inside of him had diminished a bit. It was better than her uptight attitude and the silence, at least.

After work Jemma had excused herself, telling him that she wasn't hungry and that he should stop by her room after he was finished with dinner. But she did turn around, apologizing for her behavior. "Sorry for being so… mean earlier. I'll… tell you later why, okay?" She had said and it was good to know that her old, polite manners weren't lost.

With a slight nod and a small smile he had let her know that it was alright. Then, she walked into her room, her 'concentration wrinkle' already prominent on her forehead. Knowing her,(well, her 'old' self), she was probably going to prepare a speech for him later, when they had their talk.

Fitz had thought of doing the same, since words didn't come as easy to him anymore, but his stomach had growled loudly in response…and who was he to cancel dinner for writing down some stupid sentences that he wouldn't be able to bring over his lips later anyway?

* * *

**I actually intended to include "their talk" in there too, but I had some problems with that part. I do plan on putting it into the next chapter, where we'll get to know where Simmons went to. **

**But because I have to study for my final tests at university, it will probably take me a week to write. - Sorry for the wait. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Really sorry for the longer wait, real life caught up with me and left me with little time to write. Here's the next installment, I hope you enjoy. (It's longer than the previous chapters, so I hope it makes up for the wait) **

I don't own Agents of Shield.

* * *

_Okay. You can do this. Just make a fist and bump your hand against that door. It's not that hard. It won't even take that long. The knock will be a second, probably less. _

_The greeting will be an awkward hello, but it'll only be a moment. _

_The talk…the talk will take ... what?...10-20 minutes? And then it'll be over too. _

_You've survived a shopping trip with Skye for three hours. A quick chat with Jemma is not that bad. She won't at least try to buy you underwear. With hearts on it. Or bananas. So…. just take that step and knock on the door. It's that easy…_

Uncomfortable, embarrassing or even displeasing? These feelings… they are very common before an important action. An action that we are sure that has to be taken. Because it'd be the right thing to do.

But… When you know you have to do something, while simultaneously knowing how weird, awkward and maybe even painful this _thing _or talk will be, it sometimes takes a lot of conviction to really pull it off.

And mostly that conviction comes from our wish that we'd just get over with it. We long for the feeling after, for the pleasure or relief that we'll gain when we've finally done the job.

But the thing is, before we can overcome the unease and nervousness, we will eventually have to do something. And right now, Fitz needed to calm down and knock on Jemma's stupid door.

She was probably already waiting, he figured. He had taken rather long to eat his dinner. And the two and a half bowls of ice cream afterwards hadn't made him hurry up either. But ice-cream was only served once or twice a month and he had missed it last time. He had to make up for lost time - that was all. He was definitely not postponing his meeting with Jemma.

Though, he started to regret the amount of food he had stuffed inside of him now. Every step he had taken towards her room had caused him a queasy feeling inside his stomach.

Fitz held up his hand for the fourth time now, just to see if his hand shivered enough to touch the door and to make a similar noise as knocking, when suddenly, it opened. Jemma was standing in front of him, her lip twitching slightly upwards. When she motioned him to enter she made an awkward curtsy and he couldn't help a silent chuckle. She seemed just as nervous as him.

"Just…sit down anywhere you want." Jemma said, covering up her high pitched voice with a cough afterwards.

Fitz nodded, trying to find a comfortable spot for this so very uncomfortable conversation. It wasn't that easy though. He had three possibilities and none offered him quite what he was looking for. The chair right beside the door was way too far from Jemma and when he'd move it, he'd have to move the table first. And then he'd have to find the right distance and angle to face her. The floor would be equally weird, as he'd have to look up at her the whole time. …The bed was all that was left, but it was where _she_ sat on. And he wasn't quite sure if Jemma wanted him that near. Or if _he_ could handle the closeness if she really didn't mind.

She seemed to sense that something was off, thankfully. "It's okay to sit on the bed. The chair gets uncomfortable after sitting on it for too long anyway…Not that you have to stay…It's just that this will probably take—"

"It's alright, Jemma", he interrupted her, trying to save her from rambling. He knew too well that it would only get worse with every sentence spoken.

When he got comfortable on the bed, she followed so that they were both sitting next to each other. (with a little security buffer in-between). They were leaning with their backs against the wall, trying to find the courage to look at one another.

He heard her deep breaths and she probably noticed his shivering hand that he tried to awkwardly cover with his other one. It was silent for a moment and he wondered if she actually did prepare something at all.

By now he would at least have expected an introducing sentence which would ease their nervousness a bit. Maybe she hadn't found one…

"So..how are we gonna-" - "How was your dinner?" They said in unison.

And again, when they answered one another, they chose the exact same moment to open their mouths.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-." - "Sorry, Dinner was good."

Then, they dared to look at each other, smiling. He bit his lip and she squinted her eyes. And before Jemma decided to say something, Fitz spoke up "We should probably let each other… let each other finish before we talk over each other again."

She nodded. "Yeah… that'd…be better, I think. Do you want to start?" she asked politely.

"To…To be honest I'd be less nervous if you…started first. I'd just stutter even more…"

She pursed her lips. "You're not stammering that often anymore. It's gotten a lot better, you just don't notice that."

He sighed. "Jemma-"

"No, you really don't seem to know that. The last time I saw you before I left…" she stopped, breathing in an awful lot of air "You were barely able to say three words without stuttering. And now…you've gotten _so_ much better. Your sentence length has increased immensely and you can go three to six sentences without your aphasia showing. You just struggle with professional jargon sometimes, that's all. And… you know…the reason I left has nothing to do with me thinking you were useless or because of what you told me down in the pod…" she stopped and turned her head away.

Her eyes were obviously glassy, tears showing already. "It was just that… At first, when I was still there, learning to talk was clearly a hard thing to do for you. It'd be for everyone, of course... And all I wanted to do was help you, be there for you…. But then I got a cold and was absent for three days. And that's when I noticed that…without me …you were doing _a lot _better. When I was there, I finished your sentences out of habit and didn't give you enough time to think. I made you _worse_, Fitz. I was getting in the way of your recovery."

He couldn't believe her words. How could she ever think that? She didn't make him worse, she was doing the exact opposite. Fitz wanted to interrupt her, but kept silent nonetheless, keeping their promise to let each other finish.

"At first, I didn't want to believe it myself. But once your speech pathologist came to the same conclusion as I did and informed me that you were doing a lot better without me in the room, I started dallying with the idea…of giving you enough space. I actually thought of visiting my parents, but then Coulson came up with the idea of infiltrating HYDRA…and I just went for it. I never wanted to hurt you in any way, Fitz. I just thought that that's been the right thing to do at the time…" she trailed off, her voice quavering.

"Would-..Would you do it again? …Leaving, I mean." he asked, almost whispering.

"If it meant you'd get better, yes." She answered. "If you'd get better with me being there…then no."

He nodded, giving her a small smile.

"And…about the other thing, you know, of how you see me as…more. You should know that I don't quite know how I feel. I...I know I love you; I am just not sure in what way. …

When you told me, I barely had time to comprehend your words and then…" she swallowed hard, keeping her gaze away from his "you pressed that button and all I could think of was that I had to get you out of there. When you were in the coma, all I wanted was for you to wake up. Then you finally did…but you were unable to say a word. So clearly, the next step was to put all of our focus into your recovery and when I realized I was diminishing the chances of you getting better…I left.

And with HYDRA watching in on my every move, I barely had a moment to think about my feelings towards you. …I kept postponing that a lot it seems."

This time, the smile was a lot fainter than the one he gave her before. He now knew how it felt like to have a bomb dropped on him and could understand how she must have felt when the words of adoration had left his lips. It was a lot to take in. And after all those months, he'd have never imagined that there was even the slightest possibility of her feeling the same. And yes, it didn't sound like she did indeed consider him as more, she probably didn't want to hurt him just yet, but it was something.

He breathed in, waiting for her to continue. When she didn't, he looked up to find her staring at him, tears running down her cheek. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it due to a lack of words. She wiped the wet droplets away and opened her mouth to talk again. Her voice was still shaking, but she seemed able to hold it together. "I am sorry, Fitz. For _everything_. And the reason I was acting so…mean, was because.." her voice broke for a moment, and out of reflex, his hand shot over to hers. He only noticed seconds later that he was holding her hand, with Jemma tightly gripping his as comfort. The feeling of her skin against his caused these all too familiar emotions inside his chest, making him regret his action immediately. But he couldn't quite bring himself to withdraw it. Not when she was like that, not when they were sorting things out. He'd tell her later that touching him was something she'd have to avoid in the near future.

"Because of what?" he asked, trying to ignore that she was moving closer to him.

She bit her quivering lip and gave his hand a light squeeze. "It was just that…after Trip's-… after we lost him, I kept thinking that this could have happened to any of us. And because you told me you'd be doing a lot more field work, I imagined especially of what would happen if it would have hit you...or if you'd be… next. Not because you are not …capable of field work, you are, you clearly are…but just because…you are the person I care about most and after the med pod I _know_ how it feels like to lose you. And I can't go through that again." She whispered and her shoulders sank. A sob came out of her mouth and the next thing he knew she was crying. He didn't think then, all he did was embrace her, keeping her close as he drew comforting circles on her arm.

"You won't." he said, noticing that he had kept silent for a while now. "You won't lose me. I told you, I'm not going anywhere."

"Thanks" she blubbered out, leaning into him even more. The closeness felt familiar and he noticed the smell of her new shampoo. While she had always used a decent one before, she apparently washed her hair with something more fructiferous now. It was probably Mango, and it smelled like Ice-tea.

"I'm sorry I have been so unbearable. I just thought that…if I kept my distance…" she mumbled, leaving the sentence incomplete.

"It wouldn't hit you so hard if something really happened," Fitz finished for her and she nodded against him.

After a long pause of just being close to each other again, though it felt a bit different than the times before, he figured that it was his turn talking now. Jemma curled up in his embrace, leaning her head against his chest as she could probably feel his heart rate increase. He got a bit nervous, afraid of breaking the comfortable silence they had just encountered. But he knew that he had to get it over with at some point. He just might as well do it now.

"So…uh… I guess…I'm next." He said and she answered with an affirmative "Mhmmm."

"Okay…then I'll…just go ahead, I guess?"

Jemma chuckled softly beneath him. "Nothing's going to happen, Fitz. I'm not going anywhere, I promise", She assured him. "Just tell me what you've been experiencing in the past few months."

"Right. Okay…uh…well, it's …easier to start at the beginning. You…I..uh…sorry, for the uh…" he stopped, taking a deep breath to calm himself down a bit. "This gets worse when I'm nervous." He managed to get out and he could feel Jemma's soft hand caressing his shoulder while she was still in his arms. "Could-uh…sorry, I think that's only…that's making it worse…" he said and when she stopped, she apologized with a sad "sorry". Only then did he realize his mistake. "No, no that's…you don't..you aren't…uh..making—ugh, I hate this!" he exclaimed and breathed in deeply again. "Sorry…You don't make me worse, Jemma. It's just…when you are touching me it's harder to concentrate, that's all." He admitted and was glad that she couldn't see his flushed cheeks.

But she pulled away then, slowly facing him. "Is that why you've…whenever I tried to come near you, you instantly took two steps back. Is that why?" she asked quietly.

"I…yes.…And you _do not_ make me worse, okay? It may have looked like that but when you left, _then_ things turned bad….I didn't talk much with the others…They didn't…they didn't understand what I went through. All they did was looking at me like I was broken and pitying me for all that I've lost. For what I once was and what I am/was now…They kept on telling me that I should join them whenever they were playing some games or just chatting, but I didn't want to. I knew they'd try to make me talk …and that was something I was pretty bad at…They didn't want me to be alone…But I wasn't alone…They just didn't know that. ..At least at first.

You…When you told me you'd visit your parents, I thought that had been a dream at first. I kept…seeing you. You were still there, talking to me, joking and helping me with …everything, really. When I was with…_her,_I felt happy. Normal, even. It took me a long time to find out that she…-you- weren't there. And even after that…she kept visiting me."

"You were hallucinating," Jemma stated and he nodded. "Are..Did you take your medication?" she asked and looked at him with concern.

"Yes," he said and turned away. He already knew the next question.

"Are you…is she still visiting?"

"No" he said. "The last time was shortly before you came back."

"That's good. That means you really _are_ getting better. See, I told you. You may not be your old self, but who would be after…something like the med pod. Not even I am, and I survived with only a few scratches. We've been through a lot the past year. It's normal to change after things like that…And that doesn't have to be bad. I like the person you've become, even more than the person you were before. You don't have to pretend you're somebody that you're not. All I want is for you to be happy and to be yourself."

He couldn't help but smile then. She somehow always made him feel good whenever she tried to cheer him up. Maybe because he liked her so much or perhaps because she was friendly and polite by nature. And honest.

She returned the grin, though it vanished shortly after again. "I'm sorry I left."

"You're here now," he stated and gave her another smile. "I…wish you'd have stayed, but I understand why you thought you had to leave. Even though you were pretty wrong."

"I just wanted you to be better."

"I am-with you." He said and noticed a blush on her cheeks.

"You know…it's okay to be angry-" she started, but he interrupted her.

"-I am not. Not anymore... Actually, I am not sure if I ever was… I was hurt, but…Not..not angry," he realized and kept silent for a few minutes, figuring out if he had told her everything he wanted to get off his chest. "That was…actually all, I think" he added then. "We've managed without … any more awkward moments and screaming. I am proud of us."

She smiled. "Yes. Who would have thought that we'd get, as Skye would put it, our 'shit' together?"

"Oh no! Nice and polite Jemma Simmons did not just say the 's' word out loud. How dare you?" he joked, but then their friend crossed his mind and worry overcame him. "How's she doing?" he asked a moment later. After causing two minor and one bigger earth-quake Coulson had decided to move her somewhere safe, where the quakes wouldn't be noticed that much. Fitz had no idea if there really was such a place or if they just changed location after it happened. It was only May and Simmons who had gone with her. May tried to teach her more about control, he guessed and Jemma had been there for the science. Though she had never stayed for long.

"As good as can be expected under the circumstances… I took some blood samples again. These were actually the reason I came back earlier, this time there wasn't a lab. Before we've been at a mini-secret-base with a small, and by small I mean a really, really tiny lab. It was half the size of the BUS, but at least it was equipped with a microscope."

"Where is she anyway?" he asked curiously.

"Oh, that…yeah Coulson never told me the exact location. But I guess there isn't a place where earthquakes aren't registered at some point. There are just some areas where nobody looks, or where they are common and that's where Skye and May are switching every time it happens three times in a row. The most important thing for Coulson was to not draw too much attention to the Playground, that's why he had sent her away."

"Yeah… he hadn't wanted to anyway, I accidentally ran into him and Skye once. She urged him to do something… If she hadn't pushed him into making a decision, she'd still be here I think. I guess he felt bad sending her away."

"He had a hard time doing that, yes. But I agree with Skye. Although she is my friend, she would have attracted a lot of attention with an earthquake every other day at the same location. At some point people would have asked questions…" Jemma answered and got up from her bed. "Would you like some tea? I just invested into my personal water-boiler," she smiled and opened a small cupboard to take out two cups.

"Yes, please." He said and watched as she reached for a beautiful, antique looking box. – That was where she stored her tea bags in, apparently. "And have you found anything…in the blood samples?" he asked curiously.

She shook her head. "No….I spent hours looking for something..-anything… but I got nothing."

They discussed a few possibilities they could try to help Skye, from biosensors that would warn her shortly before she was about to produce another earthquake to the absurd gag of throwing her into a block of pudding. (Yes, that was Fitz's idea). But they came to the conclusion that they barely knew anything about her ability and before they could invent or built something to help her control herself, they had to understand how her new skill worked.

* * *

Both of them noticed their tiredness, but neither of them wanted to sleep. That had been the first time since seemingly forever where they had just talked for hours without a pause. Though, they couldn't fight it forever.

It was 1 o'clock in the morning and Jemma's eyes were trying their hardest to stay open, when Fitz decided he should probably give her some rest.

"I think I'll go to bed, Jemma" he murmured, her head resting on his shoulder. He had no idea when that had happened, but he had been far too tired to fight it. It was nice though…to have her that close. He didn't feel the need to move away again, at least.

"Already?" she asked, not moving an inch. She pretended to watch the documentary about penguins, that she had turned on half an hour ago. However, Fitz knew better than that. He saw that her eyes were closed in the mirror on the closet.

"Yes. You're almost asleep Jemma, and I'm not going to last any longer either to be honest."

"Okay.." she answered, getting up from the bed slowly.

But Fitz took the opportunity and spread all over her bed. "Ah, the freedom feels great... Goodnight, Jemma. See ya tomorrow." He joked and pulled her blanket over him.

"Hey! I would have been fine with you staying here, but you're not taking the whole bed." She complained, taking the warm cover off him.

"Okay, okay. I'm leaving, don't worry." He said and got up too. She followed him the two-meter walk to her door, before hugging him briefly.

"I'm glad we are okay again, " she whispered and opened the door.

"Me too." He answered and rubbed the back of his neck. "And uh…you know…when you know how you feel…"

"you're the first one to know," she answered and gave him a peck on his cheek. "Good night, Fitz."

" G'night, Jemma."

He made his way back to his own room, running up the aisle as fast as he could to escape the cold air droughts. It was three meters before reaching his bedroom door that he realized what Jemma had said. She wouldn't have minded if he'd stayed the night…

Cursing mentally, he opened his door and immediately crawled into the cold bed. She could be lying right next to him, if he'd played his cards right… Why did he never notice such things in time?

Though, he didn't have much time to ponder more about his missed opportunity, because sleep caught up with him pretty quickly.

* * *

**Since it's getting late here, I hope I didn't make too many mistakes. **

**P.S. I reduced their 'science talk' about Skye, because honestly, I am not that great at science.^^ I hope that wasn't too obvious xD **

**Let me know what you think, if you can. :) - **

**oh, btw that was not the last chapter. I plan on writing one or two more. **


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